


You're Not Doing This Alone Anymore

by alanna_the_lionheart



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s04e15 Taken, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Panic, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Short, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Storms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 12:25:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6329053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alanna_the_lionheart/pseuds/alanna_the_lionheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two weeks after Felicity gives him back his mother’s ring, Oliver wakes from a nightmare on a stormy night. Alone in the bed he used to share with his fiance and faced with a rising sense of panic, Oliver struggles with whether or not to call Felicity for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Not Doing This Alone Anymore

**Author's Note:**

> This idea’s been brewing in my head for weeks now. Luckily it managed to become a fully formed story just in time for tomorrow’s return of Arrow. Enjoy!

**You’re Not Doing This Alone Anymore**

 

_ Gunshots. That’s all he can hear. Dozens of gunshots, over and over. Piercing the night. Loud. So loud. And _ **_close_ ** _. Whizzing over his head, over his back. _

 

_ He feels her shift underneath him with a soft whimper, and he can’t tell if it’s a cry of pain or fear, but it breaks his heart nonetheless. _

 

_ Felicity.  _

 

_ Oliver tries to make himself bigger, covering as much of her body with his as he can. Glass rains down on top of them, and he shields her eyes with his hand and tells her it’s okay. _

 

_ But it’s not okay - God, this is anything  _ **_but_ ** _ okay - but he’d do anything to calm her right now. He'd do anything to make her stop trembling beneath him and erase that terrified look in her eyes; to calm her panicked breathing and quiet her cries. And so Oliver does the only thing he  _ **_can_ ** _ do: he shields her body with his, covering every inch of her that he can reach, desperate to protect her. _

 

_ He flinches as more glass pours down on top of him, and a bullet whizzes past his ear with a noise like thunder, just missing him. Felicity's sobbing now, and Oliver would give his own life in a heartbeat if it would save her from this.  _

 

_ She whimpers his name.  _

 

_ "I'm here," he assures her, covering her hand with his and gently stroking her fingers. He drapes his arm over her face as one of the side windows shatters. A loud boom splits the night air, and Oliver flinches, terrified that it’s a bomb going off and this is the end.  _

 

_ But it’s not a bomb. _

 

_ It’s thunder.  _

 

_ Lightning flashes high overhead and rain starts to pour in through the now shattered window. Meanwhile, the gunshots keep coming, and he realizes with a rising sense of panic that he can’t tell the thunder apart from the gunshots anymore. They’ve combined into one loud cacophony that has his heart pounding against his ribcage in an attempt to escape. _

 

_ Escape. They need to escape. _

 

_ Oliver has to get them out of here. But in order to do that...  _

 

_ He has to leave her. _

 

_ He doesn't want to - it's the  _ **_last_ ** _ thing he wants to do - but he has to. _

 

_ Oliver fights the panic he feels rising in his chest and climbs off of her. Miraculously, he makes it into the driver's seat. He shoves the dead driver aside, slams on the gas, and drives. He veers to the right to avoid the car in front of him, slamming the pedal harder to get the limo up and over the median. He clutches the wheel in his hands and holds his breath as the limo straddles the concrete divider and somehow keeps going. He doesn't breathe again until the limo touches back down on the ground - so hard that the back window shatters. _

 

_ He turns the first corner he finds and keeps driving. _

 

_ Thunder rumbles overhead, and his hands are shaking violently against the steering wheel. _

 

_ Lightning streaks across the clouds, setting the night sky on fire, and Oliver slams on the brakes and turns off the car. _

 

_ His whole body is trembling now, hands glued tight to the steering wheel in shock, and he knows he has to move. He has to check on Felicity. He has to know that she’s okay, because the Ghosts are gone now and she can move, but she’s not moving, and oh god, why isn’t she moving? _

 

_ Oliver shouts her name in fear, but he can’t make himself get out of the car. The wind is howling, rain pouring in through the broken window next to him, and he shivers. _

 

_ He needs to check on her, he needs to know she’s okay, but he’s frozen in terror and he can’t breathe.  _

 

_ He gazes in the rearview mirror, and in a flash of lightning he sees her.  _

 

_ Covered in blood. _

 

_ Not moving. _

 

_ Silent. _

 

_ Still.  _

 

_ Dead. _

 

_ He wants to go to her,  _ **_needs_ ** _ to go to her. He needs to feel her body against his - needs to hold her in his arms one last time - but he can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t think beyond ‘she’s gone, she’s dead, she’s gone.’ His heart pounds in his chest to the awful beat of those words; to the beat of the gunshots that took her from him. _

 

_ ‘She’s gone, she’s gone, she’s dead.’ _

 

_ Felicity! _

 

_ He yells her name into the stormy night, but his voice is drowned out by a crack of thunder, and it feels like his heart is exploding in his chest. _

 

_ He screams, and then- _

 

“Felicity!”

 

Oliver jerks up in bed with a shout of her name: his body drenched in sweat, his racing heart beating hard against his chest. A boom of thunder echoes through the room, and Oliver scoots back against the wall with a moan. He gazes out the window, and he can just make out the Star City skyline between the curtains. Heavy rain pounds against the glass, wind howls viciously through the trees, and a streak of lightning splits the night sky.

 

Oliver kicks the tangle of blankets away from him and curls his legs up to his chest, burying his face against his knees. Thunder rumbles loudly once more, and he puts his hands over his ears, closes his eyes, and tries to drown it all out.

 

But with his eyes closed all he can see is Felicity’s body lying in the back of that limo: bleeding and broken and dead.

 

Oliver cries out and throws his head back against the wall in a feeble attempt to bash the images out of his mind, but it’s no use. He clutches a hand to his chest and tries to calm his breathing, but he can’t. He chokes out her name and looks over to her side of their bed, reaching out a hand to touch her.

 

But instead of her warm touch, he finds cold sheets and an empty bed.

 

Oliver gasps for air as his chest begins to tighten.

 

She’s not here. She’s gone. She….

 

No. She’s not dead. She’s just not here. She left him. He pushed her away and she left him but she’s  _ alive _ .

 

Oliver tries to catch his breath, to tell himself that it’s okay. She’s not here with him but she’s fine, probably fast asleep in her bed on the top floor of Palmer Tech. Except he can’t think rationally right now, because he can’t breathe and his heart is going to pound out of his chest and he’s terrified that he’s going to die here.

 

He’s barely aware of what he’s doing as he grabs his phone off the endtable. His fingers move instinctively to push the number “1” on his speed dial.

 

He just needs to hear her voice. He needs to know for sure that she’s okay. Part of him realizes that calling her is a bad idea, but he’s starting to panic and he doesn’t know how to stop. The storm sounds like it’s moving in closer, thunder crashing loudly overhead, and Oliver closes his eyes just as the lightning hits, searing afterimages behind his eyelids.

 

He tries to get his breathing under control as the phone dials, and the two rings that follow feel like they last an eternity. But then he hears her saying his name and he chokes on a sob he didn’t realize he was holding in.

 

She calls his name again, and he wants to answer her but he can’t talk; he doesn’t know what to say. Then the loudest boom of thunder he’s heard tonight splits the air, causing the bed to tremble underneath him, and he gasps, clutching the phone tighter in his hand and closing his eyes as though that might shut out the noise and the darkness and the terror that’s threatening to destroy him.

 

In the end he doesn’t say a word...but then he doesn’t have to, because she  _ knows him _ \- probably better than he knows himself - and she knows just what to say.

 

“It’s okay, Oliver. I’m all right. I’m safe and sound in my bed at Palmer Tech, just like you’re safe and sound in  _ your  _ bed.”

 

Oliver nods because he can’t find the strength to form words. His whole body aches, he’s shaking, and he can feel the band across his chest getting tighter and tighter, making it harder for him to breathe.

 

“I can hear the storm, too, Oliver. It’s okay. I’m going to help you. Do you remember what we always do on nights like this?”

 

He does. He remembers her helping him through his attacks in the past. Nightmares, thunderstorms, any number of things have been known to set him off. But she was always there for him when he needed her. It would start with a gentle touch on his back, a soothing stroke of her hand down his spine or over his shoulder or across his chest. Then she would press her front to his back and breathe against him, slowly and steadily, coaxing him to breathe with her. Her heart would beat gently against his shoulder, her skin cool against his own warm flesh, and she’d place a kiss into his hair. She’d whisper words of encouragement, words of assurance, words of love.

 

And as he fell apart in her arms, she would slowly put him back together.

 

Oliver nods, and once again it doesn’t cross his mind that she can’t see him.

 

“Oliver, I know you’re scared, and that’s all right. But I need you to do something for me, okay? I need to hear your voice. Can you do that for me?”

 

Oliver hears what she’s saying, and he wants to answer her, but his brain can’t convince his mouth to form words. It’s all too much; he’s too overwhelmed. He can feel himself clenching the phone tightly in one hand, feel his other arm wrapped tight around his knees, and he knows that he’s rocking back and forth, but he has no idea when he started doing it. A boom of thunder echoes through the loft and his chest constricts, his heart racing faster, and he can’t catch a breath. 

 

“Oliver, I need to know that you can hear me. I think it’s the storm that’s bothering you, but I need to know for sure so I can help you.”

 

Oliver shakes his head, trying desperately to form words.

 

“Just a simple ‘yes’ is good. Is it the storm that’s bothering you? Oliver,  _ please _ .”

 

It’s the “please” that does it: the way her voice trembles, the way her strength wavers just the slightest. The fear in her voice breaks through his own panic. Of course she’s scared, and why shouldn’t she be? For all she knows he’s bleeding to death in an alley somewhere. Oliver clenches his free hand into a fist against his knee, forcing himself to be strong, and finally,  _ finally _ ,  he’s able to speak.

 

“Felicity.”

 

It’s the only word he can ever get out in moments like this. Her name is all he has; all that’s ever mattered.

 

And it’s enough.

 

He hears her sigh into the phone.

 

“Okay. Okay, honey, I understand. I’m here, Oliver.  I’m right here. I know you can’t see me, but just listen to my voice, okay?”

 

He nods his head, but of course she can’t hear him. He forces out the word “okay,” even though his entire body aches and he feels like he’s going to die alone in the bed he used to share with her, and oh god, this is all his fault. All of it. He should never have kept his son a secret from her, no matter what Samantha said. He should have told her first. He should have….

 

He whimpers quietly, clutching the phone tighter in his hand, and it feels like he’s drowning. Like he’s on the Queen’s Gambit in the North China Sea all over again, watching Sara drown. Like he’s on the _ Amazo _ , being pulled under with Slade, or back in Hong Kong being tortured. All he can hear is screaming, and he doesn’t know how to make it stop.

 

But then he hears her voice, reaching for him through the storm, and he clings to it hard, as though she’s going to save his life.

 

“I’m here, Oliver. I’m not going to leave you.”

 

And maybe she  _ is _ going to save his life. Maybe she already  _ has _ . Because she is the one thing in his messed up existence that he can always count on. No matter how hard life hits him, or how bad things are between them. No matter how strongly the storm rages, or how rough the seas. No matter how much his body aches or his soul cries. 

  
Felicity has always been there for him.

 

She’s the one who lifts him up, the one who saves him.

 

She’s the one who makes him whole.

 

“We’re going to get through this together. Just like we always do. You and me.”

 

And so she walks him through his breathing exercises. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Two seconds in, two seconds out. Over and over and over. Then she walks him through the next step. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Four seconds in, four seconds out. Oliver does as she tells him to, and he can feel it starting to work. His chest doesn’t feel quite as tight, and he starts to feel like he’s in control again. He desperately wants to touch her: to feel her breath against his neck, to feel her chest warm and strong against his back. But he can’t. So instead he focuses on the sound of her voice, and he finds that it’s enough.

 

“I know you’re scared, and it’s okay. I’m here, Oliver. I’m breathing with you right now. Can you hear it?”

 

Oliver closes his eyes and concentrates, focusing everything he has on her. He shuts out the sound of the thunder and the rain, shuts out the flashes of the lightning. And yes, he can hear it. Her breathing is strong and sure. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Slow and steady. Six seconds in, six seconds out.

 

He matches his breathing to hers, focusing intently. 

 

She doesn’t say a word for a long time. She breathes with him, and even though he can’t see her, he knows she’s there.

 

And she calms him...just like she always has.

 

And slowly but surely, his breathing evens out. The band across his chest loosens, and he lets out a sigh. He’s drenched in sweat, and he’s still shivering, still shaking, but he can breathe again.

 

“Can you talk to me now, Oliver?”

 

This time when he opens his mouth, he finds that he can.

 

“Felicity.”

 

It’s not actually a “yes” or a “no,” but it’s an answer all the same, and she laughs lightly, as though she expected nothing else. “Okay, that’s great. You’re doing so well, honey. You’re stronger than this, remember? Stronger than anyone I know.”

 

Oliver nods, even though he recognizes now that she can’t see him. She’s done this for him before, countless times; said these same words to him on nights just like this one, after nightmares that have involved everything from watching her die to dying himself.

 

“How’s your breathing, Oliver?”

 

“Better,” he stammers, and the shaking has finally stopped, too. He’s tired now, more tired than he was when he went to sleep a few hours ago...but he’s going to be okay. 

 

Thanks to her.

 

“Good. That’s good. I….”

 

He knows what comes next: the same thing that always comes. Only he doesn’t know if she’ll say it this time, because after everything that’s happened between them he honestly doesn’t feel like he deserves it.

 

In the end, she says it anyway.

 

“I’m proud of you, Oliver,” she says firmly. 

 

There’s not a hint of doubt in her voice, and the fact that she can still say as much after what he’s done to her floors him.

 

“Felicity….”

 

He wants to apologize for everything. For lying to her. For keeping secrets from her. For hurting her. 

 

“I know, Oliver. It’s okay.”

 

She’s heard it all before, so many times, more times than she should have to. She knows he’s sorry, but right now, he desperately needs to prove it to her.

 

Oliver takes a deep breath, fighting his nerves and gathering up his strength. When he finally speaks, he finds that he can’t stop.

 

“It’s not. It’s not okay, Felicity. I know...I know you said you wanted space. I shouldn’t have called you, I know, and I’m sorry, but I just needed to hear your voice, and I-”

 

“Please don’t apologize for this, Oliver.”

 

He pauses, at a loss for words. Eventually, a strangled “what?” leaves his mouth.

 

“I’m glad you called me. I don’t...I don’t like the idea of you going through this alone. I never have. The nightmares, and the panic, and the loneliness, I just….”

 

She pauses, and Oliver slowly moves his knees away from his chest, stretching out his sore muscles as he waits quietly for her to finish.

 

“I want to help you, Oliver. In any way that I can. I always have.”

 

And it’s there, listening to the quiet rumble of thunder off in the distance, that it hits him.

 

_ “If something is bothering you, and I don’t know about it, I can’t help you fix it. I can’t be a good teammate. I love you, and that makes me want to be the best teammate ever.” _

 

_ “Marriage is about inclusion. It’s about leaning on your partner when things get complicated. I don’t think that you know how to do that.” _

 

“Felicity….” 

 

And he gets it now. Why she’s so upset.

 

She wants him to let her in. She wants him to lean on her when things get too hard for him to handle by himself. 

 

Like he did tonight.

 

He hadn’t wanted to upset her - he’d wanted to respect her request for space - but maybe calling her wasn’t the wrong move, after all. Maybe she’d needed him tonight just as much as he’d needed her.

 

Maybe she always has.

 

Wallowing in self pity and grief is how he’s always done things, but that’s not going to work this time. He’s not going to get her back that way. The only thing that will get her back is proving to her that he can change; that he can learn to stop lying and learn to lean on her when things get hard. That he can let her in. 

 

To get her back, he needs to fight for her, for himself...and for them. He needs to stop doing things the way he always has.

 

He needs to change. And maybe that change can start right now.

 

For the first time that night - and maybe the first time since she gave him back his mother’s ring - Oliver smiles.

 

“Thank you,” he whispers.

 

And when she says “you’re welcome,” he pictures her smiling back at him, and the thought fills him with hope.

 

“How are you feeling?” she asks gently. “Do you think you can go back to sleep?”

 

And he’s surprised to find that the answer is-

 

“Yes.”

 

Felicity sighs, and he can practically hear her smiling this time.

 

“Okay. Goodnight, Oliver.”

 

“Goodnight, Felicity.”

 

Oliver ends the call and puts the phone back down on the endtable. Then he crawls back under the covers.

 

As he lies back in bed and listens to the storm moving off into the night, away from Star City, he clings tight to the idea that nothing lasts forever. In time, the storm will pass. The darkness and the cold and the chaos will fade, giving way to light and warmth and peace once more.

 

He’ll get Felicity back. He has to. He can’t do this without her. He needs her, he relies on her, he loves her, and he never wants to hurt her ever again. Now he just needs to prove that to her.

 

He settles down on his side, looking over at her empty half of the bed. He reaches across and grabs her pillow, pulling it close to his chest. He rubs his face against it, breathing deep and inhaling her familiar scent, and for the first time since she left him it doesn’t hurt. He sighs deeply as he rests his head on her pillow and closes his eyes.

 

Oliver falls asleep to the quiet sound of rain hitting the window and her voice in his head telling him everything’s going to be okay.

  
**_...the end…_ **


End file.
